Lights, Camera, Action!
by GW Katrina
Summary: LotR does celebrity endorsements. This is what happens when I don't get enough sleep after watching LotR:FotR for the tenth time in the theatre. Older fic, but enjoyed by slash-squicky friends. Slash, with odd turns of insanity. Enjoy.
1. Take One!

Title: Lights. Camera. Action!

Author: GW Katrina

Beta: None. Suffergrins.

Notes: This is something that came to me at five o'clock this

morning, after 36 hours of no sleep(I've napped since then), and two

wasp stings. It will most likely not be funny, but it will be weird.

grins Hope you enjoy. waves This is for you few people who

commented about my Frodo Bath pic.

P.S.: I'm not endorsing these products. They just seemed to match up

so well.

Gandalf winced as he saw the chaos that composed the set. "Tell me,

Samwise, why are we doing this again?"

Beside Gandalf, Sam sighed. "Because we need the money, and Mr. Frodo

looked at us."

"Ahh." Gandalf nodded wisely. "I think we should just start pimping

Frodo out. He would.... OW!" Gandalf the Grey, most powerful of the

wizards, looked down as a frying pan connected again with his other

leg. "Sorry," he muttered.

Before the great and powerful wizard could do anything to the small

and cuddly hobbit, a harried looking woman rushed

over. "Areyouguyshereforthecommercials?Good,comeon." Without pausing

for an answer, she herded them over to the set.

"Therestoftoday'sgrouparehere,sowe'llgetstartednow."

Blinking, Gandalf and Sam felt their jaws drop. There stood various

people they had fought so many years ago. "H.... How...?" Sam got out.

Without missing a beat, all of the others said one word at the same

time.

"Frodo."

"Allrightpeople,it'stimetofilm."

Gandalf is at Shire-like place, grinning happily. In his hand are a

can of Pringles. He munched on one absently, then another one,

quickly going through the whole can.

"Hm," he said. "Very much like hobbits. Once you have one, you just

can't stop."

"Good, we got it."

"Gandalf, give us some," came a muffled voice.

Gandalf hiked up his grey robes and handed Bilbo and Balin a new can

of Pringles.

A blurry room, then comes into focus on a giant, flaming eye wearing

purple, sparkly mascara. "When I have a hot date with that wizard I

met via palantir, I want to look my best. Visine helps take that out

that dry, itching sensation, leaving me looking my fiery best."

"Cut."

"Mr. Sauron, can I get you anything?"

"Yah. Have any of this mascara in green?"

In a large, throne-like chair, Saruman sits in his blinding white

robes. "From fighting battles with my former peers to breeding armies

in dark caves, I never have to worry about my robes. Clorox bleach

gets out everything from blood to slime. Nothing makes whites whiter."

"Wonderful. It's good."

"Goody for you. Tell Sauron I'll be ready to go in ten minutes."

A dank, gloomy cave, with something splashing in the darkness. The

slip-slap of large feet, and the light caught large, moonlike

eyes. "My Precious, gone. Taken by nasty hobbits. Given from nasty

hobbits to other nasty hobbits. If had Allstate insurance, they help

us look for nasty hobbits to get Precious back. Will get Precious

back, and gets Allstate. I hates nasty hobbits forever."

"Okay. We'll just call that a wrap."

Gollum just continued to whimper for his Precious.

"Security."

Sam is near a large canyon, holding a small tube in his hand. "Bondo

glue is so strong, that one drop is as powerful as my love for Mr.

Frodo." He blushes lightly.

Faintly, in the background, someone is whimpering.

"Shagging hobbits.... I mean 'Cut'!"

Another dark cave, with a tomb in the middle. By a shattered doorway,

a large cave troll is picking up wood shards. "I love guests, but I

don't want them to see my home as a mess. Orange Clean is the best

I've found for keeping my cave nice, clean, and smell great. But when

they do see my home messed up...."

Cave Troll roars, and the camera drops, catching its holder running

for his life.

Pitch black area. "I love spicy food, but sometimes it gives me the

worst breath." A blast of flame, and the room lights up, showing the

Balrog. "When I'm expecting company, such as an old boyfriend, I use

Listerine. That minty taste lets us get just a little closer."

"Baby, I love you. Perfect."

"Then I can rip his heart out."

"Um.... LUNCH!"

Lurtz is sitting on a chair, looking at himself in the mirror. "When

we are born, we have the softest skin of our lives. Especially those

of us who are born from slime. With Eucerin, I can have that soft

skin again. Always a bonus when you are trying to woo the man of your

dreams, even if he is a pervy hobbit-fancier with two boyfriends."

"Ooohh." Shakes her head. "That works."

"Then we can have a four-way."

Someone falls over. The director giggles, then shoos everyone away.

"All you guys were great. Wonderful to work with you, hope we can do

it again sometime."

As the last of the commercial makers leave, the woman sags. No longer

talking at high speeds, she pops a few Advil. "Goddess, they are all

insane. I don't want to see them ever again."

Her assistant coughed, looking guilty. "That wasn't all of them. The

rest of the bunch will be here tomorrow." He sighed as the woman

began to whimper.

The End


	2. Not again Take Two!

Title: Lights. Camera. Action! II

Author: GW Katrina

Beta: None, suffer some more.

Notes: grins This is for all of you who kept pestering me. There

are one more set after this. All the characters are from the first

book and movie. Once again, I do not endorse any of these products. Yes, I know that Merry's seems off. Deal.

Lights. Camera. Action! II

Dragging herself to the set, the poor director munched on a donut,

hoping the sugar would wake her up. Yesterday had been a nightmare.

Insane, flaming eyeballs, balrogs who wanted to rip out old

boyfriends hearts, and one of her best cameramen had been nabbed by a

orc, who took his screams of fear as a mating call.

Worst part was, more of the same group would be here today.

"They're here."

With a yelp, the director jumped, dumping hot coffee on her

assistant, who looked no happier today than what he had looked last

night. With his own yelp, he took off for the bathroom.

The day start ominously.

"All right, everyone! Let's make this painless on all of us. Do what

I tell you, and I promise I will not kill anyone. At least not on

camera."

The group before her shuffled, then went still.

"Good. Let's go."

Legolas preened, knowing he looked hot as he sat on a large, velvet

lined chair. A thin circlet sat on his head, and he was dressed in

silk.

"When you are a prince of your land, you are use to certain things.

Good food, soft beds, and clean smelling people. You can't have all

of that when you go on a grand quest. Now, when I need to go on a

long journey with mortals who don't understand the word 'bath', I

take along a bottle of Febreeze. A few squirts on their clothing

while they sleep, and I don't have to shout my scouting reports.

Febreeze: what makes questing bearable."

"Cut. Wonderful. NEXT!"

Legolas stopped a nearby human. "Has Elrond gotten here yet?"

The woman nodded. "He says he's waiting for you in your dressing

room, with his commercial product."

She blinked as Legolas seemed to vanish from before her eyes.

Aragorn stood in the middle of a large throne room, looking very

kingly, smiling for the camera.

"As a Ranger and a king, I've discovered a few things are always

going to be useful. Things like duck tape, cute, hairy-footed short

people, and Bic lighters. Bics are always useful. From lighting a

diplomat's cigar, to burning orders to surrender, to setting dark

horsemen of your enemy alight, nothing is more useful and versatile

than a Bic."

"All righty then. Run along."

Aragorn frowned, then snagged a crewwoman. "Can you tell me where

Legolas went?"

The woman(the same one Legolas grabbed earlier) nodded. "He was

meeting Elrond in his dressing room."

Once again, she seemed to be talking to thin air.

In the background, a voice rose. "Stupid human. Ruining a pretty elf

picture."

A pool of water shimmered in the light. As it stilled, the face of

Galadriel appeared.

" I make my living ruling Lorien, and I do it well because I have

strange and mystical powers. However, if you don't sound mystical,

then all the power in the world will not aid you. When I sound hoarse

or congested, I just pop a Halls into my mouth, and I'm spooky as new

in just a few minutes."

"CUT!"

The image of Galardriel flickers, and she becomes Dark Witchy

Elf. "You give me the Ring freely, of your own will?"

The director kicked the dish over, spilling the water

everywhere. "Get me the next one."

A beautiful, peaceful, woods. Suddenly, the peace is shattered by the

sound of an engine. From nearby woods, a 4x4 burst into view. The

rider pulls to a stop in front of the camera. She turns off the

engine and pulls off her helmet.

"Sometimes you have to leave home is such a hurry you don't have time

to borrow a horse. Times like that, it really pays to have a 4x4 from

Honda. They get you where you need to go, even through the roughest

terrain. Even aloof, unavailable elven princesses like myself can't

help but fall in love with a Honda 4x4."

"Camera loves you. Now shoo."

Arwen looked around, not seeing Aragorn anywhere. "Probably off with

that blond hussy and Daddy. Oh, well."

She snagged a crew person. Amazingly, it is the same woman that

Legolas and Aragon grabbed. "Is there a Gap nearby?"

The woman nodded. "Gap of Rohan is right downtown. About twenty

minutes that-away."

"Thanks." Arwen paused, looked the woman up and down, the

grinned. "Want to go with me?"

Seeing as she was acting as nothing more than an information center

for the insane actors, the woman nodded. "Sure." She hopped on the

back, took the spare helmet from the elven princess, and they speed

away.

A steamy bathroom mirror. A large hand wipes away the steam, and

Boromir peers into it, looking in the image of the camera.

"If the elf in you party begins to shout his scouting reports, you

can guess you don't smell too good. It gets worse when you are shot

full of orc arrows, and the rest of the group thinks you are dead.

When you do get back on your feet, it pays to get a bath and some

Speed Stick. When you see your boyfriends for the first time since

your brush with death, you want to smell extra nice. Speed Stick

helps."

"Cu..!"

The director is cut off by a scuffle in the background. Pippin is

charging for Boromir, but was dragging Merry along with him. "Pip,

no. We have to do our scenes first. Then we can jump him!"

The younger hobbit paused. "But, Merry...."

"No, Pip."

"But he's only in a towel."

"No...." Merry took a second look. "Bloodly Hell, my room has a

shower. We can clean up there."

The hobbits ran up, grabbed their lover, and pulled him out of the

room.

"Hope it's a quickie," muttered the director.

It is dark, with only bubbling red-orange lava to light the area.

Suddenly, the camera focused on a human who is overlooking the

natural light. A closer focus, and you see the man fondling a golden

ring.

"Sometimes, things go wrong between you and your love ones. A missed

birthday, a forgotten anniversary, you dump your boyfriend for a world-

destroying ring. Little things. Things you want to say you're sorry

for. When you dump your hot, half-elven boyfriend for a shiny gold

ring and whispers of power, make it easier by sending him a Hallmark.

For when you really care."

"Cut. You can leave."

Isildur jumped when a large eye, circled with flames, and wearing

green sparkly mascara, appeared by his side. "Hey there, good

looking," it purred at him, even though he wasn't sure how it was

doing it. "Looking for a good time? I see you have a pretty, pretty

ring there."

"YOU SLUT!"

The floating eye and Isildur turned to see a man with a long, white

beard, and wearing white robes stomp towards them. "Someone turns up

with the One Ring, and you dump me like a hot potato. How dare you?!

And don't think I don't know about that weekend with Elrond!"

The director shoved all of them off the set. "Jerry Springer is right

down the hall. Go there. Now."

They did, still squabbling, dragging a confused Isildur with them.

Pippin was bouncing around what looked like a very nice kitchen. With

a huge grin on his face, the hobbit seemed to be working a coffee

maker. He turned and looked at the camera.

"People can be particular about what wakes them up. The orcs in the

mines of Moria, for instance, are driven absolutely batty when you

wake them up by dropping an old skeleton clad in armor down a well.

Them come at you with everything they've got, even a cave troll who

hates to have people see his messy home. Orcs aren't that bad,

really. You just have to offer them Folgers. Good to the last drop,

unlike skeletons." He offers an orc a cup of coffee.

"Okay...."

"AHHHH!" Boromir ran onto the set with his sword, and chopped off the

orc's head. The nice, bright kitchen is covered in black orc

blood. "Orcs bad," hissed the heir to the Steward of Gondor.

"MY HUSBAND!!"

"Oops," gulped Boromir, then ran, as the missing cameraman began to

chase him with a large frying pan. "HELP!"

"Oy," sighed the director, dropping her face in her hands. "That's

it. This next one is the last one for today. I can't take much more."

A large pile of fluffy towels. They shift, then Merry rises from

them. He finally can be seen, wearing nothing more than a loosely tied

robe, and the pile of towels themselves. "Downey makes everything

snuggly soft," the hobbit purred in a soft voice.

Before the director can say cut, Merry was pounced by Pippin, and the

pair began to kiss each other in front of the camera. Boromir, who

was still being chased by the enraged cameraman, snagged his half-

pint lovers and raced for the dubious safety of their dressing rooms.

Seeing that all of her stars were either A: shagging/attempting to

shag each other/her crewmembers, or B: arguing relationships in front

of Jerry Springer, the director was glad the day was over.

Her assistant whimpered as he neared her. "Ma'am, I hate to inform

you, but a f..few more from th....this group are coming tomorrow."

He fled before the screams could even leave her mouth. Then the cries

were drowned out by an engine. Arwen pulled up, the crewwoman still

behind her. "Hey, hop on. I have a friend who would like to met you.

She's tired of this group, too. At least the males. We'll go party

somewhere. What do you say?"

The director paused. She could have a headache tomorrow from

stressing about the shoot, or she could have a headache from getting

drunk. "Sure, why the hell not? What's your friend's name?" she

asked, getting on behind her crewwoman.

"Eowyn," Arwen answered, and they sped away.

The End.


	3. No more Take Three!

Author: GW Katrina

Title: Weird Fic: Lights, Camera, Action! Take 3

Beta: None. Suffer.

Disclaimer: Don't own them or the products.

Feedback: Of course, you silly Tooks.

Notes: First off, I'd like to thank Claire for getting me the jingle

for Doublemint gum. I hope she likes what I've done with it. Second,

it's been a very, very long time since I've posted the first two of

this inadvertent series. There are also some references to my fic

"The Show", another humorous piece. If you want copies of any of

them, just ask.

Lights, Camera, Action! Take 3

"Ma'am? Ma'am?"

Her assistant was starting to get worried as the director continued

to stare into space.

"Ma'am, they're going to be here soon."

That got him a small whimper.

"Ma'am, please, I don't think I can handle them all. Besides, I

don't want to face Frodo because you lost it."

Another whimper, one that was different from the first. "Frodo?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Frodo's shoot is today, remember?"

"Get me coffee. See if you can't lace it with something."

"All right, Ma'am."

"Everyone, listen up. I know some of you were here yesterday. Same

thing applies. If you do what I tell you, nobody will be killed.

Piss me off, and I will maul somebody. Got it?!"

Everybody nodded at the director's growl. Satisfied, she looked at

her assistant. "Not laced?"

"Sorry, Ma'am. We don't have anything."

"Damn. Oh, well. Let's start this circus."

Elrond is looking into a beautifully decorated mirror, slowly and

delicately rubbing cream into the skin around his eyes. As he does,

he begins to speak.

"As the ruler of one of the most beautiful of elven lands, it is

expected of me to represent the best of my home and my people. As a

half-human, I tend to develop fine lines that none of my people will

ever have. So, to look my best, I use Oil of Olay to keep my skin

looking it's elvish best."

"Good. Cut!"

Legolas and Aragorn glide up on either side of Elrond. "Lord

Elrond," purred Legolas. "Arargorn and I have something else that

will help you remain as youthful as the rest of our people."

With a small smile, Elrond allowed himself to be led away. Several

crewmembers followed, pulling out notebooks and pens. One woman even

brought out a cam-corder.

Gimli stands before sheer stone walls, eyes barely visible above his

mustache.

"Everyone knows that dwarves love company. That is why dwarven

hospitality is known throughout the land. However, dwarves also

love a cold brew, and if you show up without a Icehouse, they throw

out dusty skeletons and pretend to have been killed in a great

battle."

Gimli held up a cold bottle of beer, water beading on it.

"Icehouse-gets you into the house."

"Wonderful. You're free to go. Wait. Give me that beer, first."

As Gimli starts to hand over the bottle, a howl goes up. "My

Precious! Never gives us a beers."

With a shriek, Gimli drops the beer and flees, barely keeping ahead

of Gollum.

Looking wistfully at the beer now fizzing on the floor, the director

sighs.

"NEXT!"

A river swirls next to a dark forest, lit only by the light of a

pale moon.

Suddenly, the darkness is broken by a brightly shining elf, riding

on the back of a white horse. The pair draw to a stop, reflecting

off of the river in a blinding display. The light dims a little, and

Glorfindel began to speak.

"As an elf of the First Age, I hold the power to drive back the

darkness. However, not all people are so fortunate. For them,

there's Maglite. Whether you're trying to find your way, or trying

to bash a Nazgul over the head, Maglite has the right light for you."

"Cut!" Eyes looked at the elf from behind sunglasses. "Can people

get a tan off of you?"

Before Glorfindel could answer, a crew woman tackled him, knocking

him to the ground.

"Pretty, shiny elf," she giggled as she dragged the unresisting elf

away.

"Why me? I could have really used that beer."

The camera zooms in on a smiling hobbit. Bilbo runs a hand through

his curls, looking just a tiny bit nervous.

"For years, I used to get compliments about how young I looked. Now,

after Gandalf's discovery, everyone thought it was because of the

Ring. Not true. Good blood was most of it. The rest of it was

Clariol. Their line of wonderful hair dyes help me keep my curls the

same rich and natural color they were in my youth."

"Wonderful. We got it."

The director turned towards one of the tech people. "We'll be able

to edit out Gandalf's legs, right?"

The young man nodded. "Sure. Your cameraman might need therapy,

though."

One look at the twitching man, and she agreed. "It's not our fault

that Bilbo refused to come out from Gandalf's robes."

Pitch black. Then music starts, familiar but very, very slow.

"Double your sentiment, your merriment"

As the first line is drawn out very slowly, two spotlights come on,

lighting up a pair of dark haired twin elves. They stood still,

posed so everyone could see them clad in leather and silk.

"Double your moments of fun"

Another line is crooned out as the twins let their bound hair loose.

It flowed down their shoulders and back, swirling like the pale silk

they wore.

"Double your delightment, with the right mint"

Nimble fingers helped undo the leather ties of each other's vest, as

both twins swayed to the music.

"For refreshment, it's the only one"

Now the fingers moved to buttons, and Elladan bent back, Elrohir

leaning against him in order to push the shirt off. Then Elladan

returned the favor, leaving spotlights to reflect off of golden skin

and black leather pants pressed to each other.

"Double you pleasure, double your fun"

Next to go were the lacing that ran up slender legs. Surprisingly,

it didn't take long, and both shimmied out of their pants, pausing

to help one another slid out of tight leather.

"That's the statement of the great mint"

Elladan and Elrohir were now down to a pair of speedos and long,

black hair. With naughty grins, they thumbed the waistband on their

tiny little coverings.

"In Doublemint gum."

With the last line of the jingle, the twins yanked off the Speedos,

leaving themselves glad in barely-there thongs, the same shade green

as Doublemint gum packages.

A few seconds passed of dead silence.

The woman who had tackled Glorfindel leapt onto the stage, followed

by the blond elf himself. They each grabbed a twin and ran away.

There was a general uproar, and most of the crew and actors ran

after the fleeing foursome.

"Lu.... LUNCH!" yelped the director, who then threw up her hands and

joined in the chase.

Back from the lunchtime chase, the director looked around. About

five people had actually come back. More than she had expected.

Plus, the people for the next commercial were there.

"Forget beer," she growled. "I want mead." A deep breath. "Next

shoot, you guys."

On the counter laid copies of the live-action and animated movies

based on Lord of the Rings. Beside them sat the One Ring and a check.

Behind the counter, Gandalf picked up the check. He looked at it,

then down at the Ring.

"Do you have any ID?

A deep voice began to chant.

"Ash nazg durbatuluk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatuluk agh

burzum-ishi krimpatul."

"Very catchy," said Gandalf, sounding very bored. "But I'll need

more than that."

Letters of red flame began to appear on the Ring. Once again, the

chanting began.

"I'm sorry. If you don't have any ID, I can't take your check. NEXT!"

The deep voice sounded again.

"Visa Check Card. Gets you in, out, and on with your plans to

destroy Middle-Earth."

"Must you say that?

"Bwahahaha!"

"Forgot. Ring of all consuming evil. Best we'll get. CUT! Set for

next scene. Oh, and people, no kidnapping the star."

After throwing back a large glass of mead, the director was back on

the set. A little wobblier, but much calmer.

"All right, people, let's get this one going."

On the stage is a large bed, with, thankfully, only one person on it.

Frodo sat up, completely nude except for a well placed sheet, and

the Ring, which was on a chain that rode low on Frodo's hips.

"Serta. For when you want a good night of...." He trailed off,

lowering his head until he was looking at the camera through his

lashes.

"Well, a good night of just about anything," he purred.

"Cut! Frodo, get dressed. Before I lose you and am hunted by a

bloodthirsty crowd. Mainly your cousins."

A crewmember laughed. "You might get chased anyway if you make him

get dressed."

"Shut up. We need him clothed for the next one."

Feeling her happy mood being disrupted, the director snarled at

them, her face going slightly freaky. Frodo thought she looked

rather like Bilbo in Rivendell, when he had been nudged by the Ring.

"NOW!"

Another dark forest. Frodo is darting through the trees, carrying

something close to his body. All around are the cries of the Black

Riders.

Close-up of Frodo's face, who looks frighten. He glances over his

shoulder, and his eyes get larger.

The screams are louder, and there is a close-up of one of the horses

the Nazgul ride, red eyes gleaming.

Frodo stumbles over a hidden root, but catches himself before he can

fall. However, that is all the Riders need to surround him. They

slide off their horses, circling around the hobbit, who continues to

try to back away, clutching something to his chest.

The Witch-King screamed.

The Nazgul fall upon Frodo, all with the same cries. A few seconds

of struggling, and the Witch-King stands.

Across his face is a streak of white, and he holds up a bottle.

"Got Miiiiiillk?"

"Perfect! But did you have to strip the hobbit?"

As the actors straggle off the set, the director begins to do a

happy dance. "We're done, we're done! No more commercials!"

"Er, not exactly."

The woman froze, her eyes going to the person who stood beside

her. "Frodo, I hope you are just making conversation so we can have

a shag later."

The hobbit blinks. "Well, actually, with the new movie out, your

boss has let us have you again to film the new commercials. Some new

people, some old."

The director whimpered, then curled up into a ball. "What did I do

wrong? Why does my boss hate me so much?"

"Doesn't hate you. We like you. Want to shag?"

A second or two of silence, the director popped up to her

feet. "Sure. But don't expect me to like doing more of these things."

"It will be fine. This way."

The End (for real)


End file.
